


Recovery

by starwalker42



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s06e10 Tithonus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29616657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwalker42/pseuds/starwalker42
Summary: Mulder and Scully work through Scully's injury and what it means for them, together.
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 10
Kudos: 104





	1. "Do you want me to leave?”

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter was from the prompt "Do you want me to leave?” from suitablyaggrieved on Tumblr.

He hasn’t left the hospital room for more than a few minutes at a time, always only when necessary to pick up a coffee or head to the bathroom, and he’s always, always checked with her that she’d be all right without him: _Scully, I’m going to go grab something to eat, is that okay? I’ll be right back._

She feels sometimes like she ought to push the point, tell him to go home and shave properly, eat something more than a couple of energy bars, change his clothes, but she knows it would be useless. Mulder has guarded her like a hawk since he arrived here at the hospital, much to the irritation of the nurses and doctors. 

He’s never actually asked if she wanted him to leave before, and she’s half surprised by the question.

“I don’t have to…” he’s looking away and she can see the flush of his cheeks. “I can step outside for a while.”

The nurse has come in to change her bandage and wash her bullet wound- she’s been coming in every day, but Mulder’s always managed to be out of the room for it. This time she’s come in as they’re halfway through talking, and Mulder doesn’t have a convenient way of escaping. He’s so flustered it’s adorable. 

“It’s okay,” Scully smiles, reaching for his hand and keeping him by her side. “I want you to stay.”

Mulder squeezes her fingers in reassurance, but still doesn’t look up. He’s been helping her to the bathroom, standing watch to make sure she’s okay- hell, he helped her into the shower yesterday, when she was practically naked- but this is apparently overstepping a boundary. God she loves him.

“Mulder.” She tightens her grip on his hand. “You can look.”

“I… are you sure?” 

“Soon enough you’re going to have to do this yourself,” the nurse chimes in, flashing him a kind smile. “Once you take her home, she’s going to need you.”

Scully’s pretty sure all the staff here think Mulder’s her husband, or at the very least her long term boyfriend. They always talk like he’ll be there for her at home, and sometimes if she’s tired the doctors will talk to him more than her. It’s not annoying, or demeaning, but reassuring. Okay, so they aren’t together, but Mulder will take better care of her than any boyfriend ever has- that’s a given at this point, with either of them. 

Does she want him to leave? No, never.

“Does it hurt?” Mulder murmurs now, finally raising his eyes to glance at her wound. 

“A little. Not as bad as it was.”

“My shoulder burned for days,” he jokes, playfully nudging her arm. “I’m still convinced you did permanent damage.”

The nurse raises an eyebrow but says nothing. Mulder’s gone quiet again.

“I still can’t believe he did it.”

“Mulder…”

“I know. I know.” He raises her hand to his lips and kisses her knuckles, and she begins to think that maybe this is why people think they’re together. “I just wish I could’ve been there.”

“You’re here now.” She squeezes his hand.

_That’s all that matters._


	2. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was from the prompt "We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?” from suitablyaggrieved on Tumblr.

He doesn’t understand. But then again, she doesn’t really, either, just that it feels like the right thing to do after you’ve survived a bullet to the stomach and your partner has driven you home while you’re still somewhat high on pain medication. Not _hey Scully, I love you_ high, but the nice, fuzzy feeling that she knows from nights on the couch with a bit too much wine.

Mulder is looking at her with concern, but amusement, too, and it reminds her of the way she looked at him all those years ago in Oregon when _he_ was the one insisting on getting out of the car and into the pouring rain. She remembers him getting out and shouting at the sky, overjoyed by something only he could understand. As they wait outside her apartment building for the storm to end, the rain on the roof of the car echoing her thrumming heartbeat, she’s suddenly completely, blissfully aware that she’s alive, and that that’s maybe the thing she didn’t understand all those years ago.

What it felt like to be alive. Really, truly alive.

She gets out of the car, so he does too, and the rain is cool and refreshing and so _real_ that she has to laugh. It’s like taking a first drink after years of thirst, like taking a dip in a poll on a long summer day, like… like walking into a basement office and finding meaning in your life after an age of confusion.

Mulder steps closer, and she’s remined of Oregon again, leaning into his warm body in the middle of a dark graveyard and feeling the first flutterings of love stirring in her heart. She remembers laughing then as well, that laughter that she can’t recall experiencing before or since, the kind that shook her body and made Mulder grin like he couldn’t stop himself. She cranes her neck up to see if he’s smiling now, and he is- he’s gazing at her and he has this beautiful soft smile, and he’s _right there_ , sending every nerve into overdrive. She’s always wanted to kiss someone in the rain and who better than Fox Mulder?

She’s up on her tiptoes and pressing her lips to his before he can react. For a long, long moment, they don’t move, don’t breathe, don’t think. She thinks he kisses her back, but it’s hard to tell when her lips are as cold as they are. Rainstorms are romantic, but cold, and even as she pulls back she feels a few drops drip under her collar, accompanied by a sudden shiver.

Mulder chuckles quietly and brushes a strand of wet hair back from her forehead. “I think you should get inside.”

She nods in agreement, but before she lets him turn away she grips his arm and forces him to meet her eyes so there can be no misunderstanding.

“I love you.” Okay, so maybe she’s a little too high. But she means it.

He places his hand on her back, guiding her into the apartment building, and leans down to whisper against her ear.

“Oh brother.”


	3. "Can I hold your hand?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was from the prompt "Can I hold your hand?” from tinglingworld on Tumblr.  
> Thank you for reading!

She wakes in pain. Her stomach burns and she hears herself moaning in response before she’s aware of it. There’s a momentary panic where she worries the relatively fresh stitches in her stomach have torn- surely nothing else could hurt like this- but she can’t feel any blood.

It occurs to her then that she’s been on medication of one sort or another since being admitted to hospital, and that by now- a glance at the clock tells her it’s 3AM- the Vicodin she took earlier will have worn off. Damn it, where did she put-

“Scully?” She hears Mulder call quietly from outside the door. “You okay?”

When she tries to respond, the only thing she can manage is a whimper.

“Scully?” He opens the door just a crack, and she makes out his silhouette against the moonlight before another wave of pain forces her eyes shut. “Do I need to call-”

“No,” she managed through gritted teeth. “I just need my painkillers.”

When he steps forward into the room she wonders if he heard her, wonders if her voice is weaker than it sounds, but then he seats himself on the edge of the bed and she can see that he’s already got the pill bottle in his hand. He sees her looking and offers a small smile.

“I knew it was time for another one, but I didn’t want to wake you.”

Her words from earlier come to mind again- _I love you_. She knows that Mulder assumed she was high, the same way she’d assumed it of him after the Bermuda Triangle incident, but she knows that it wasn’t the medication that made her say it. Up until now she’s not even considered that maybe Mulder meant it, too, but the care in his eyes right now seem to suggest otherwise.

And she’s pretty sure he kissed her back.

“What were you doing up?” She forces herself upright and tries not to gasp as the pain increases tenfold with the movement.

“Your couch isn’t Mulder-sized,” he jokes, handing her a tablet. “And you should know by now that I think sleep is overrated. Do you want some water?”

She shakes her head and swallows the tablet dry before lying back down with a wince. The pain still burns through her, but she’s slowly adjusting to it- as long as she stays still and doesn’t breathe too deeply.

“Are you sure I don’t need to call the hospital?”

She can’t help but smile at his insistence, at the worry she can detect in his voice. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, Doc,” he smooths her hair back from her forehead and her eyes flutter closed at his touch. “I’ll leave, I don’t want to keep you up.”

“No, stay.” Her eyes hurry to open again- she doesn’t want him to go, doesn’t want him to go back to her tiny couch and a mind full of worries. She doesn’t dare move to grab his arm, in case it starts the pain up again, but her voice seems to convince him enough. “It’s going to be a while until I can sleep again, anyway.”

Mulder seems as relieved as she is when he settles back onto the bed, but he’s restless- he’s turning the pill bottle over and over in his hands and refusing to meet her eyes. Several times it appears he wants to see something, but every time he opens his mouth it shuts again a moment after. This has happened before, and she knows by now the best way to help is to wait for him to be ready.

Finally, he manages to get some words out.

“When they called, I thought you were dead.”

The words hang heavy in the air between them before he speaks again.

“I’d left you alone, and you were dead.”

“Mulder.”

“I saw the crime scene photos and…” His breath hitches. “I just keep thinking about you, alone.”

 _And dying_ , she adds silently, and wonders if he’s thinking the same thing. Instead of asking, she moves her hand so it’s closer to his.

“Mulder? Can I hold your hand?” At his nod of assent, she wraps her fingers through his. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

He finally looks up to meet her eyes- his are almost obscured in the near-darkness. “What if one day you’re not?”

“Then it won’t be your fault. The same way none of what happened in New York was your fault.”

She squeezes his hand and is relieved when she feels the slightest pressure in return. She really does love this man, this man who can believe in everything except for himself. She just wishes she knew how to tell him.

Well, maybe she can’t tell him. But she can try and show him.

“Sleep here tonight,” she murmurs, and tugs a little at his hand. “Right here.”

“Are you sure?”

She just nods and squeezes his fingers again. Mulder carefully climbs over her and lies behind her on the bed, on top of the covers. Without thinking, she reaches behind her, takes his hand again, and wraps it around her waist. His fingertips brush the edge of the gauze on her stomach.

“I’m glad you’re here now,” she whispers into the dark.

She feels Mulder shift closer, and delicately wrap his arm more firmly around her. She can feel his breath tickling the back of her neck.

“Me too.”


End file.
